


It's magic (never believe it's not so)

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Holidays, Magic, Magical Girls, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Gwen meets a dragonlord, helps plan a holiday party, and discovers that being with Morgana actually is magic after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's magic (never believe it's not so)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt at kinkme_merlin: _Gwen/Morgana, Bewitched AU. Morgana finally tells Gwen that she comes from a long line of witches. Gwen is surprised but supportive--however, she wasn't anticipating the arrival of meddling magical relatives (cue sister Morgause, cousin Merlin, Aunt Nimueh...). At least the magic!sex makes up for it?_
> 
> Many thanks to bluewillowtree for beta reading!
> 
> Written for merlinfemfest 2010.

Gwen had always known that there was something different about her girlfriend. Not bad different. Just _different_ different.

It wasn't just the way she was always impeccably on time for any event she had planned, from meetings at work to trips to the market, or that her skin seemed to look flawless even just after she woke up.

"I'm just talented that way," Morgana had explained to her. "Multi-talented, even."

Which was true – Morgana _was_ multi-talented, in the way that people who knew how to successfully organize a number of things in their personal and professional lives were multi-talented. She got up early, went to the gym, organized her laundry by color and fabric, attended board meetings, gave competent presentations, and had an uncanny knack of knowing when the company's stock would rise or fall.

(She also, Gwen learned soon enough, had strange, frequent moments of insecurity, during which she'd curl herself in tight against Gwen and remain quiet for however long their current dvd lasted. Then she'd uncurl, kiss Gwen, and ask Gwen to stay the night so quietly and hesitantly that she always found herself saying yes.)

No, it was more in the way her fingers moved, careful and precise, and in the way her eyes lit up, green and gold all at once.

At the start of their relationship, she'd attributed all those things – the eerie sense of punctuality and perfect skin and the strange brightness in her eyes – to Morgana just being, well, _Morgana_.

Gwen ought to have known better.

*

Gwen was three glasses of wine into the evening and happily considering what it was going to be like to divest Morgana of all the filmy, silky, blue-green layers of her outfit when Morgana sprung it on her.

"Remember how I said I had something important to tell you?" Morgana rested both their hands on the table and rubbed her thumb along Gwen's palm. "Well…"

Expectant, Gwen leaned in closer. Close enough that she could see the flush that came over Morgana's skin turning faintly pink over her breasts. "What? What it is?"

Morgana flushed again, and her eyes took on that gleam that Gwen found simultaneously disconcerting, pleasing, and familiar. "Before we move in together, you should know, that… that I'm a witch."

"Oh, you're not that bad; you just get up too early and you're much too specific about sorting the laundry – "

"Gwen, no, I mean… a _witch_."

Gwen glanced around the dim, candlelit restaurant and frowned thoughtfully. It wasn't that she had anything against witches. There were certainly worse things Morgana could've revealed herself to be. Serial killer, for example. Or yoga instructor.

(Not, Gwen noted, that she had anything against yoga instructors either, generally, but after Lancelot, who'd dated her best friend and then fucked off to god knows where on some year-long retreat, she'd decided she was done with them for the time being.)

So, really, finding out her girlfriend was a witch?

Gwen could deal.

"And that means what… Pagan stuff? Which, you know, that's fine and all, I'm just wondering – " Gwen glanced back at Morgana. "I'm curious."

"Hm. Not quite like that." Morgana replied to Gwen's frown with a tiny smile. "More like… magic," she said, simply, and with a flick of her wrist, the rosebuds in the vase on their table bloomed, all lush pink petals and light, sweet perfume.

Gwen's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yes." Morgana smiled and plucked one of the roses from the vase to present to Gwen as they left the table.

*

Later that evening, Morgana's clothes fell like so many blue and green petals from her body and her lips moved impossibly soft over Gwen's. She whispered something quiet and wordless against Gwen's skin and warmth bloomed inside Gwen, starting small inside her chest and reaching out and out to the tip of her fingers and toes.

When Morgana worked her way down Gwen's body with lips, teeth, and tongue, the feeling gathered again between Gwen's thighs.

This, Gwen thought, _this_ was magic.

*

One morning, after Morgana had woken Gwen up with fresh coffee and nuzzling kisses and had left for work, Gwen padded into the kitchen to locate the rest of the coffee. What she found was an empty pot and a rather dejected-looking boy sitting at the table, head pillowed on his arms and a half-full coffee cup in front of him.

"Um. Hello?"

When he lifted his head, Gwen could tell he wasn't actually a boy anymore. A man, maybe her age, maybe a few years younger, with an untidy mess of dark hair and a gleam in his blue eyes rather similar to the one in Morgana's. "Oh, good morning. You must be Gwen. Is Morgana gone?"

"Yes, that's right…" Gwen frowned. "And you are?"

"What? Oh! Oh, I'm sorry." The man stood up from the table, smoothed his hands down over the rumpled jumper he had on and then offered one to Gwen. "I'm Merlin. Morgana's cousin Merlin."

"…" Gwen could only blink in reply. She needed more coffee. She really, _really_ needed more coffee. Dealing with in-laws before her second cup was all kinds of wrong.

"Younger cousin? On her mum's side?" Merlin explained, then frowned at Gwen. "She didn't mention me? Ah. Right. She must still be angry at me. When you see her, could you tell her that our Aunt Nimueh's also peeved at me at the moment, but I can't figure out if it's because I did something to the space-time continuum or the balance between life and death."

"… you did what to what?" Gwen asked, but Merlin had said goodbye and disappeared before she could get an answer out of him.

"He did _both_."

Gwen nearly screamed when her reply came not from the recently absent Merlin, but from the even more recently present woman whom Gwen guessed was Nimueh. She stalked around the kitchen, her blue eyes flashing with an intensity that reminded Gwen of summer lightening.

"Where is that little dragonlord? I know he's been here; I can feel him."

"He left. Somehow. Look, I don't even know how he got here, or how you got here, not that you aren't welcome, it's just really early and… wait. Dragonlord? Merlin? The same Merlin that was here just now and drank all my morning coffee?" Gwen could feel herself flailing a bit on that one. "He has a dragon?"

Nimue ignored her disdainfully and turned back to Gwen only when she'd decided Merlin really had departed. "When he comes back – and he will come back – you can tell him he'll need to fix those rifts soon or both Gaius and I are coming after him."

"Can't you tell him yourself?" Gwen asked, then sighed with frustration when she realized Nimueh was gone, too. "Right. Is Gaius, whoever that is, going to drop by, too, or can I have breakfast? Or maybe Merlin's dragon wants a slice of toast? "

Thankfully, she got no answer to that question, though Gwen decided to shower quickly and pick up something to eat on the way to the uni just in case any other random relatives decided to pay a visit.

*

"See, the worst part of it all is they don't ring first. God, they don't even _knock_. They just appear when you're looking for caffeine or the last biscuit," Gwen found herself explaining to Arthur a few weeks later. "At least my dad's predictable – he rings every Sunday evening and visits on major holidays and birthdays."

"And your brother?"

"Well, okay, Elyan could be a bit more meddling and come by more than once a year. Still."

"Hm. Maybe you could get some sort of security system?" Arthur prodded at his spinach salad and shoved an olive off to the side of his plate.

"What, a magical security system?"

"Oh. Right. Maybe not, then." Another olive got shoved aside and Arthur heaved a sigh.

"Oh, you're not still mooning over Lancelot, are you? I already told you he'll be back in a year or so and you'll just get your hopes up again, and then he'll break your heart, so it's better to move on." Gwen reached across the faculty dining room table to touch Arthur's hand. "I can introduce you to a lovely warlock."

Arthur's nose wrinkled up a little. "What does he… what does that even mean? What does he _do_?"

"Well. He's a warlock. You've never dated a warlock before." Gwen nodded encouragingly. "Oh, and he does something with dragons."

"… dragons?"

"And he's cute. Brunet. You adore brunets."

Arthur looked as if he was on his way to acquiescing, but drew back away from Gwen when her smile broadened. "Oh, no. _No._ Don't you try and palm the most annoying of your in-laws off on me."

Damn.

*

"Merlin's not the most annoying." Morgana chose a sheer, purple shirt from the boutique display and held it up to her chest. "This one?"

"Hm. I think so. And all right, he's not the most annoying. He's just around the most."

Morgana pondered an odd, frothy looking skirt. "Do you want me to talk to him? We could try…"

"We could…" Gwen shook her head at the frothy skirt. At least Saturday afternoon high street shopping was an adventure. "But, oh, then he'd be sad, wouldn't he? If we told him no more early morning coffee or tea time television."

"And make the puppy eyes. He's terrible, isn't he? He's always been like that."

Gwen looked through a few more shirts with Morgana, then drifted off to look at the display of little, sparkly holiday dresses.

"Get the pink."

Gwen turned around to find Morgana standing behind her. She leaned in when Morgana wrapped her arms around Gwen's waist and smiled at the way Morgana rested her chin on Gwen's shoulder to give the dress a better look. "Definitely get the pink. You'll look adorable."

"I don't think they have my size left."

"Hm. No worries. I can fix that at home."

Gwen fingered the edge of the dress. Morgana was always doing things like that these days – using her magic in small ways for Gwen, either to fix a dress or to shut off the lights at night or a hundred other tiny things that were becoming part of Gwen's everyday life.

"You're kind of wonderful," Gwen murmured and caught Morgana's lips with her own.

"You, too, baby. Now get the pink dress and wear it for me when we throw our first-ever holiday party."

*

"Should I ask what you're doing?"

"Scrying."

Gwen put her work things down on the kitchen table and walked over to where Morgana was standing and staring into a mixing bowl full of water. "Weren't you supposed to be baking cookies?"

"Yes, well, I thought I could try and see who'd come to the party."

"Hm." Gwen stared down at the bowl, too, but all she could see was the clear, smooth surface and a few ripples when Morgana sighed. "What?"

"The future's uncertain about holiday parties, it seems." Morgana tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and peered back at the bowl of water. "Your Arthur's going to come, but do tell him not to wear that hideous jumper. Oh, no, wait, he's changed his mind so we should be safe."

"I think you're just being lazy and don't want to write invitations."

"I'm being clever!"

"Lazy," Gwen repeated, leaning in to start kissing Morgana's neck. She'd drawn Morgana's attention completely away from the scrying bowl and had slid one hand up under Morgana's shirt, happily entertaining thoughts of spontaneous kitchen sex, when she heard somebody clear their throat.

Gwen eeped and tried to hide behind Morgana, who in turn gave a frustrated sound in reply to Merlin's mumbled apologies.

"I wasn't watching! I promise. I don't even like, um, stuff. You know. Oh god."

He looked about ready to turtle into his hoodie and Gwen just started laughing, thankful she wasn't the most embarrassed person in the room anymore.

"Don't you ever do that again," Morgana said, "or I really will tell Nimueh about how you and Freya tried to run away to Avalon when you were fourteen and nearly drowned in the lake."

*

Apparently, party planning, not random tea time visits or breakfast encounters, was the way to determine Most Annoying Relative status.

(Merlin had dropped out of the running for the time being. Subsequent to nearly witnessing Spontaneous Lesbian Kitchen Sex, he'd taken to texting Morgana and even showing up on the doorstep and knocking instead of materializing right in the kitchen or sitting room.

Gwen half-suspected he'd misplaced his dragon or something and needed to stay in Morgana's good graces lest his uncle Gaius discovered what happened before he found it.)

"If you invite Freya, then you need to invite all the other Druid cousins." Morgause tapped the side of her mug and leveled a stare at Morgana.

"Surely not all of them."

"All of them."

Morgana stared back over stacks of festive invitations and annotated checklists. "It's a winter holiday party, not a wedding. Half of them won't even come."

"Half of them will, should you choose to not invite them." Morgause continued to stare back at Morgana.

And Gwen, who hadn't grown up with an older sister, just stared at both of them until she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and got up to make more tea. She and Morgana had planned the food and decorations for the party pretty well on their own, with only three objections from Morgana's Aunt Nimueh, who seemed to disapprove of all Morgana's color schemes, and one from Merlin, who accused them of trying to kill him by serving all the food he was allergic to.

Morgause, however, had showed up only when Morgana had to sit down and do her half of the invites. She and Morgana had spent most of the past hour alternately sniping at each other and commiserating about complex family dynamics.

" – and if you invite Elaine, then you'll have to invite the Ashtanga Yoga instructor she met up in Scotland. Lawrence? Or are they both on the retreat yet?"

"Lancelot!" Gwen squeaked and nearly dropped the kettle. Visions of Arthur, drunk on eggnog and whatever it was Morgana claimed was traditional fare for magical folk around the holidays but Gwen strongly suspected was just old-fashioned mulled wine, passed through her mind. He'd spend the party sobbing into Gwen's shoulder over his ex-boyfriend and that, frankly, was unacceptable, because who wants to see their best friend a sloppy, drunk mess for the winter solstice?

"Gwen? _Gwen_?"

"What? Oh, sorry, just thinking about something…" Gwen replied when she looked away from the kettle she was clutching to see that both Morgana and her sister had taken to staring at her. "Maybe… don't invite Elaine?"

Morgause held her gaze for a moment, then nodded briefly. "Perhaps not."

Morgana also caught Gwen's eye and shook her head just as briefly, a tiny smile hovering at the corner of her mouth. "Fine, Freya and the Druid cousins, but not Elaine and her yoga instructor."

Gwen let out a sigh of relief.

*

Empty wine glass in one hand, Gwen wove her way through the maze that the sitting room had become toward Morgana, who had settled on their sofa with two plates of food.

"Are you having a nice time? You look lovely," Gwen leaned in to whisper against Morgana's bare skin.

"I am! See, everyone's getting along." Morgana beamed proudly. She'd been beaming a lot tonight, now that the few moments of tension, including a couple misplaced _Harry Potter_ jokes, had ceased. Alcohol and food were great mediators; their two groups of friends and family seemed to be getting on well enough for the night.

"And, oh, look, Arthur's rescuing Merlin from the shellfish. See, I knew they'd be perfect for each other."

Morgana laughed and rested her head against Gwen's shoulder. "Are you still plotting?"

"Mm. Maybe. It's just, you know, I was so lucky to find my own magical partner, I want to spread the happiness." She nestled in closer to Morgana on the sofa and pressed a kiss to her soft, dark hair.

Morgana laughed again, softer and deeper this time, and snapped her fingers so Gwen's wine glass refilled itself automatically. "We should eat, and then we should mingle some more, but meet me back here at the end of the evening, all right?"

"I'm not sure where else you expect me to go, but, of course I'll be here. Of course I'll be here," Gwen repeated.

*

The evening passed in a blur of fizzy warmth and conversation. By the time everyone had gone, and Merlin had escorted a sloppy, happy, affectionately drunk Arthur out the door instead of simply disappearing on his own, it was past midnight.

Tired and content, Gwen slipped off her shoes and snuggled in next to Morgana on the sofa once more. Only the tiny, twinkling lights that Morgana had strung up around the sitting room were on, and everything still looked lovely and festive and perfect, even with some of the detritus of the party strewn about the room.

"You don't think any of your relatives are going to pop back over, do you?" Gwen asked as she and Morgana sat quietly together, finishing off the last bottle of wine.

"Oh, I hope not. But I doubt it – I warned them all off the best I could."

"Magical security system?"

"I… what?"

"Nothing," Gwen said. She reached across Morgana to put her glass down on the side table and slipped her arm around Morgana's waist. "Now, what did you want to see me about?"

"Ah, yes. My favorite part of the evening's finally arrived." Morgana's eyes glowed a gentle green-gold for a moment, then the light in the room changed to an even softer gold, more like candlelight than fairy lights. "There, I'd been saving that just for us."

"Have I told you lately that you're my favorite?" Gwen's hand slipped down the length of Morgana's thigh and just under the hem of her skirt to stroke softly.

"Hm… I think so. But I don't mind hearing it again."

"Favorite," Gwen murmured into the kiss Morgana pressed to her lips. Morgana's tongue slipped into her mouth, the taste of sweet, spiced wine all over both their mouths.

She drew back for a moment to look at Gwen, and then they were kissing, eager and urgent. Morgana yielded, her mouth soft and wet, when Gwen pressed in closer, and Gwen knew then and there, at the tiny sighing sound Morgana made, that Morgana really was her favorite. Her favorite of all the women she'd ever fallen in love with, the woman who was able to make sensation spark from all Gwen's senses when they got this close, the woman around whom all her favorite moments would collect in the days and years to come.

Gwen's breath caught at the back of her throat and she tipped her head back, only to feel Morgana kiss down the length of her neck to the curve of her breasts. And she kept on kissing, licking against Gwen's skin and nipping along her collarbone, until Gwen whimpered and Morgana nudged her to lie down on the sofa.

It wasn't just the kisses, the soft, damp, ticklish touch of Morgan's lips and the sharper, firmer scrape of her teeth against Gwen's skin that drew the sound from the back of Gwen's throat. It was the faint, feather touch between her thighs and at the back of her knees; the pool of warmth that started at the base of her stomach and spread, slow and molten, through her limbs; the feeling of being touched, stroked, kissed and caressed from the inside out.

A shudder went through Gwen and her body arched against Morgana, helpless with desire. She knew this was magic, powerful magic, the magic of skin and breath and blood, and she could feel Morgana in every bit of it, all over her body.

"I love you in this dress. Should I leave it on you? Should I have you come for me in it?"

Gwen wanted to say something, to tell Morgana she wasn't sure if she would last much longer anyway, but all that came from her mouth was another whimpery, needy sound. Still clothed, still in her dress, she could feel the press of Morgana's touch between her thighs, coaxing her orgasm along until it came over her with a shuddering, dizzying warmth.

Later, loose and languid with pleasure, Gwen would bring Morgana to bed, would slip both of their clothes off, and would kiss her way down the length of Morgana's body. She'd nuzzle her, tickle her, and lick inside her, bring a shivering all through Morgana's limbs, and Gwen would know that, too, was a kind of magic.


End file.
